


Making us all forget

by Samuuraijack



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Because Dep sure is quiet, Comfort Sex, Eli Palmer is a talker, M/M, Praise Kink, Sleep Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 09:07:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15482418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samuuraijack/pseuds/Samuuraijack
Summary: The Deputy is inside the Wolf's Den. Not spleeping. The resident leader of the resistance lends a hand to help.





	Making us all forget

**Author's Note:**

> Don't you feel Eli deserves better? He had so much potential. My male deputy Harvey had a bit of a crush. So this is some sort of comfort thing before the messy ending...  
> The title is from the beautiful song "3's & 7's" by the Queens of the Stone Age.

The night has fallen outside the Wolf’s Den. Not that it makes such a difference in activity around. There’s always someone monitoring the cameras or passing through to resupply. But night gives everything a softening, dreamlike quality. Like finally you have an excuse to collapse on a mattress somewhere and give yourself to oblivion for a few hours. Away from this hell.

But Harvey can’t sleep. He knows rationally that he should try. His body is beyond exhausted, pushed past limits he didn’t know existed. But his mind is firing on all cylinders. When he closes his eyes, a red mist is pulsating. It’s the blood vessels from inside his eyelids or a memory of the emergency lights in Jacob Seed’s nightmare, he can’t decide. He’s questioning what’s real anymore. What does he trust? And Eli is too good to be true.

When Eli found him and brought him here, to _safety_ , it was like something inside him uncoiled. Not alone, not _in charge_ anymore. And he realizes he has the worst case of PTSD after all of this. Drugs by Faith and weird hypnosis by Jacob. Straight up torture by John. But he doesn’t want to fight against that feeling of dependence he can already see in his actions. Circling not far from to the bunker. Coming back at night to have protection close by. It’s logic and safe behavior to seek shelter when he’s more vulnerable but he knows it’s not what makes him stay. It’s like the bearded man is his only line guiding him to hope, life, his sense of self against the constant dehumanization applied by the cult.

With the questioning of his sanity comes the terrifying thought that it’s too little too late. He’s numb to the horror around him. Corpses in pools of blood everywhere, broken cadavers suspended from trees in grotesque positions and he doesn’t care anymore, his eyes glossing past the people dead and alive. He welcomes that numbness, because it’s useful for now but Eli talks about his men and how he feels responsible for them and Harvey isn’t sure he has retained that much humanity or if he’s helping by reflex. Muscle memory from his deputy training. Survival instincts.

“Come on, you must rest.” In his dark musings, he hadn’t heard Eli enter the room. It’s always baffling to see that mountain man, armed and imposing, talk to him so softly, expression open and calm. Harvey knows that Eli is always dealing with something; his men in the field, supplies running low, efficient strategy and steady morale. But when the man looks at him, he’s all there, focusing his gaze and intention on him. It’s dizzying after being under all the crazy Seed’s scrutiny.

Eli comes closer, reaching with a hand but stopping short of Harvey’s arm. He certainly knows better that to startle an armed man, traumatized and tortured but Harvey craves it. That soothing touch, not an aggression, not a harmful breach of his space. Fuck, he’s trembling with the contradictory inputs from his brain. The need to surrender, rest, enjoy that friendly affection. The fear and violence crawling under his skin like angry ants. He follows Eli at a distance, letting him set the course to a quieter area. The corridors are damp and badly lit and it’s a respite to be hidden and surrounded by sturdy walls.

They reach a small room with a ratty bed and tired furniture. They’re closer now that the space doesn’t allow much and Eli’s voice is softer, like he wants to lull him to sleep.

“It’s usually my room, the door doesn’t close but nobody will bother you here.”  Harvey is temporary lost by the quaint domesticity of the setting. What is he doing here? In the last weeks he invaded lots of people homes, already breached and tainted, occupants gone or dead. But here, he’s in Eli’s space, his intimacy, and he doesn’t remember the protocol anymore. Where does he put his weapons? Does he take off his clothes? And he’s sweaty and dirty and he still doesn’t know if he can slow his brain enough to sleep. Confusion and near panic must be plain to see because Eli gives him a sad smile and takes charge with slow moves as if handling a skittish horse.

“Gotcha, Dep. Easy.”

The weapons he hadn’t left at the bunker’s entrance are carefully put on the dresser. Bow against the wall. Then, Eli gently pushes on a shoulder, making him sit on the bed cover. Finally, his brain has decided that the contact is welcomed. More than that. The warm hands guiding him are comforting, silencing his alarms. His body, expecting pain at the touch, is releasing so much endorphins right now. He must look happily drugged out when he raises his head to search Eli’s face because the man chuckles lowly and continues his ministrations. He’s thankful because zippers and buttons seems awfully complicated at the moment. His jacket and hat are gone. Eli’s eyes are full of mirth and that much closer when he kneels in front of him. That man is a gift. How does he still have that range of emotions? Finding the will to smile and being this strong against the horror they’re living in? Harvey feels barely human, more and more empty after each confrontations with the Seed family.

Feeling Eli dealing with his shoe laces, he tries to help and reach down with clumsy fingers but Eli bats his hands away with another “Easy… Let me or you’re gonna fall on your face.” Putting his body forward has placed his head near the lengthy hair flowing near Eli’s shoulders and treating the warning like a prophecy, he lets himself fall in slow motion until his forehead is pressed at the junction between shoulder and neck. It’s the perfect curve for it. Great place to rest. The prelude to all this has a sense of ineluctability. All roads leading here to Eli’s shoulder. Gravity in action.

Feeling the man under him tense, Harvey has a few seconds of overwhelming panic but he doesn’t have the energy to move. When the shoulder he’s pressed against drop and relax, he takes the opportunity to burrow deeper. The military issued shirt beneath his cheek is soft with use and the impressive beard is tickling his jaw, rising and falling with each deep breath. 

“Deputy? Harvey, you alright?” He feels the scratchy rumble of the voice and tries to appease the worry in it with a nod, his nose bumping against Eli’s throat. He takes a deep breath, not surprised to smell old sweat and blood but the warmth at least is comforting. Close to Eli’s pulse, feeling muscles and tendons contract with his nervous swallowing. Again, he has contradictory impulses. Bite his savior or surrender himself to his kindness. He takes another road and licks with a swift stroke, tasting the skin under Eli’s jaw. A sharp intake of breath is the answer he gets before Eli abandons his shoes and press a hand on his nape, getting him closer. The other one, still gentle, searches for his jaw in a slow caress.

“Hey, what do you want? Gotta need a clear sign. Don’t wanna take advantage.” Eli’s voice has reached new depths, all rough and rumble he can feel vibrating between them. Harvey finally lifts his head, searching Eli’s face. The man still has this clean aura, clear eyes, no trace of deception. Eli is certainly the last man in Hope County who can be accused of taking advantage. It’s Harvey’s turn to be careful to take only what the man will freely give.

“Want this. You.” Harvey’s voice is rough with lust and disuse. It’s flattering to see Eli’s gaze turn darker and feel the small tremors of the hand still on his jaw.

“Damn, man. You’re gonna kill me with this.” His smile looks brighter in the middle of the dark strands of his beard. Harvey takes the words for the confirmation it is to keep going. He’s impatient to consume and burn and lose and forget. He reaches with his mouth seeking those lips like a thirsty man discovering a cool stream and Eli responds immediately, easing the passage and helping the gesture with a thumb stroking the corner of his lips. They separate and seek each other again and again, Eli still whispering those praises and pacifying words in between.

“Easy… Gotcha. Look at you, so good. Lemme help ya. God, I knew you were a godsend. Easy, no rush.”

Except there’s an emergency in his actions that Harvey can’t suppress. He _needs_ more right now. He claws at Eli’s biceps, taking handfuls of the shirt and pulling the man, urging him to climb with him on the small cot. Eli starts laughing, puffing gulps of air on his face. “Hey, Tiger. Eager, aren’t ya. Stop hauling me and lie down, will ya. I really hope the bed can handle both of us.”

Harvey follows half of the directions, easing down on the bed but still letting his hands roam the front of Eli’s shirt, pushing and pulling to manoeuver the man above him, knees bracketing his hips. They both groan when Eli lowers his body and rests part of his weight at the junction between hip and thigh.

Eli is narrating again, panting between shorts sentences, invading all slots that Harvey left empty after those weeks. “Hot. It’s been awhile for me. Feel so good. Not gonna last long but I’ll make it good for ya.” Again, zippers and buttons are dealt with by those calloused hands. Harvey’s T-shirt is gathered near his armpits and the pressure on his cock eases with his open fly. Eli tugs on his underwear and the cool air doesn’t even affect his filling erection. He barely registers as the man spits in hand and takes him with firm pressure. No teasing and no hesitation. Harvey loses time, eyes tightly shut, focused on that wet friction and encouraging voice.

“You don’t wanna wait don’cha? Yeah, efficient. I like the way you get things done. Discreet and deadly. Let me return the favor.”  Harvey glances at the man above him, then at the hand massaging him with purpose. The sight of his cock teased by the rough fingers fuels his arousing and he bucks uncontrollably against Eli’s weight. His hands search for an anchor and he grips Eli’s thighs making the man groan a drawn out “Fuuuuuuck”, leg muscles seizing and pressing on him like a vise. With a metal click, Eli has reached into his own pants to gather his sex and aligns them together. After that, it’s a race to completion. The contrast of Eli’s smooth cock and abrasive hand, rubbing made easier by their sweat and precome. Harvey stops thinking and lets Eli dig out his release. Blank out and reboot his brain. Blissed out and finally free. Muscles seizing and cum spilled in uncontrollable spurts.

He’s twitching and sensitive, mess on his stomach when Eli reaches his own peak.

Harsh breaths filling the air around. Crouched above him, Eli’s hair is almost touching his face and he avoids direct eye contact, almost embarrassed by their eagerness. He feels Eli’s contentment radiating, muscles relaxed and limbs heavy and he tries to cling to his own afterglow but reality is fast in reasserting his power on him.

Eli’s weight shifts and he carefully climbs down. Harvey gets a “Wait here.” as he exits the room.

Harvey wakes up when a wet rag mops up their mixed cum on his stomach and he doesn’t cling to consciousness, falling again for good to the steady rumble of Eli’s voice in his ear.

“Sleep, Sweetheart. You deserve it.”


End file.
